


Habit. Pleasure. Release.

by WoodenDeer



Series: ArdyNoct Drabble of the Week [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Doomed Relationship, Gen, If You Squint - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Violence, Pre-Slash, Time Loop, Time Travel, the title says smut but I say pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27991383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodenDeer/pseuds/WoodenDeer
Summary: Every new loop Ardyn found himself in he anticipated to see Noctis happy, and sometimes his prayers came true – and then they met. What happened more often, what happened every time, was Noctis’ look in the end. The same look he gave Ardyn before inflicting the final strike, which would cut off this loop and start another.Lying on the square near the Citadel, Ardyn knew what he would see if turning to Noctis.He really did have a habit of losing things, and now he was about to lose again.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia & Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: ArdyNoct Drabble of the Week [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010289
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: Ardynoct DS





	Habit. Pleasure. Release.

**Author's Note:**

> The very moment I saw this week's prompt I knew I'm going to ruin everything and not make it light and cheerfully porny. The idea isn't so original but it never ceases to hurt, and I really love it so yeah, not 300 words again x)
> 
> In some reality Ardyn and Noctis are happy but not in this one.
> 
> P.s. ao3 keeps changing the look of my tags, thank you very much :/

The gaps in his body were a spectacular but threadbare sight. They still hurt as bad as in the first time, and there was one last blow, yet to come.

Ardyn sprawled over the paved plaza, the very place he wiped with his back for so many times, and when it wasn’t the Citadel’s vicinity, it happened in Gralea, in front of the indifferent Crystal, or in his life-long stone prison from where he never broke free, or in the deep of Leviathan’s realm, where there were only them, their regrets and a single sword between their chests… Personally, Ardyn’s favourite was that memorable wheat field, the remaining existence of which seemed dreamlike.

But this time everything ran the beaten track, and he was destined to fade outside, soaked with rain and incomparably small before the Kings’ house.

He turned his head to the left; a tiny shift left him exhausted. He saw Noctis, hesitant to approach him and with a face like shattered glass – it bled with tears, visible even in rain. He gripped the glaive of his Father, the final strike, more like a goodbye kiss, and he refused to give it to Ardyn. He didn’t hurry him, though. The scene wasn’t new for Ardyn, but for Noctis it meant the end, both Ardyn’s and his own. Ardyn didn’t hurry him, yet he desperately wished it was over. The glimmering of Noctis’ eyes accumulated inside his hollow chest drop by drop until that poison filled him to the brim. Ardyn was the one lying broken, and it was almost unfair how little he cared about it, while Noctis looked down at him as he was his worst nightmare. Despite pity for him, sometimes Ardyn was glad his crumbling vessel was warmed up by the fire of that sheer misery. It felt like caress, the one for which he thanked Noct with a smile.

But sometimes it was unbearable. And there was nothing he could do to prevent it, to make Noctis snarl at him and lunge with all the Royal Arms he gathered for that moment specifically, to release him from inevitable grief. Ardyn remembered how he _had_ tried to not let it happen, just once. He was so terrified to be at the receiving end of that agonized stare again, he sought the boy before gods would condemn him. As a result, he had blood of a newborn baby on his hands and all-consuming emptiness following his abhorrent deed. Then something clicked, and the world was restored, and he was alone.

Ardyn couldn’t find strength to reinitiate the sin, he was brave enough to only bother Noctis along his way, and if it was tortures, they never reached him directly as if skirting his shining halo. Every sign of Ardyn’s success turned out futile in the end when Noctis haltered and watched him on his deathbed, his expression always the same. Maybe he saw something different from what Ardyn experienced, otherwise Ardyn couldn’t explain it. Or maybe it was just Noctis and his strongest, kindest heart.

After the moment of trepidation, he made a step closer until even that scarce distance didn’t delay fatality. It was one step, but Ardyn took pride in the boy. As if out of an old habit, he recalled the phrases suited to the last act. It didn’t matter much because he wouldn’t see himself how Noctis decided to dispose of his rotten legacy, or if he would have time for it. The finale of their tragicomedy was unknown to Ardyn. If it ever had it. 

What diverged in most of the times was Noctis’ replies at his lines. ‘Quite a nasty weather today,’ Ardyn thought as Noctis raised the glaive. ‘That damn rain doesn’t allow me to hear you.’ 

Ardyn hoped that next time he would be gifted with the pleasure of hearing his voice. And maybe see him smiling back.

The sword sunk in.

***

He was alone again.


End file.
